The First Dance
by Griselda Banks
Summary: Oneshot. Spoilers for TWS. Who has Steve been kissing since 1945?


**Author's Note: I've been getting increasingly annoyed at the Sharon-haters lately. I could go into a long-winded rant about all the reasons why, but I'll spare you :P Suffice to say that, as much as I love Steve with Peggy and wish circumstances had allowed them to live the happily ever after they deserved...well, SteveXSharon has actually become my favorite movie romance. Ever. They win the Most Likely To Actually Have A Successful Relationship Award from me, and I want to watch them grow old together. But to get to that point, I think Steve needs something like this first.  
**

 **For the longest time, I was stumped by the line in TWS where Steve says, "No, that was not my first kiss since 1945." Because he doesn't kiss anybody in the movies leading up to that point, and Steve Rogers is _not_ the kind of man who would go find some random person to have a fling with no matter how lonely he is, so who the heck was he kissing? I'm probably a bit late in figuring it out, but I'm proud of myself for working it out on my own :P The song I quote below is actually about a father-daughter relationship, but it just fit so beautifully I couldn't resist. (Especially since the artist is another Steve :P)**

 _So I'll dance with Cinderella  
While she is here in my arms  
'Cause I know something the prince never knew  
Oh, I'll dance with Cinderella  
I don't want to miss even one song  
'Cause all too soon the clock will strike midnight  
And she'll be gone_

 _\- "Cinderella" by Steven Curtis Chapman_

"Steve..." Peggy gasped, her eyes filling with tears. "Y-You're alive! You came back! It's been so long..."

Steve smiled sadly and squeezed her hand. "Well, I couldn't leave my best girl. Not when she owes me a dance."

He stood and crossed to the record player he'd spotted in the corner. A thin layer of dust covered it, but it still turned on when he flipped the switch. He thumbed through the collection of records until he found one he thought he knew, and put it on. The soft, crackly notes of a trumpet filled the room with its warm, familiar rhythm.

Taking Peggy's hand again, he kissed her knuckles and bowed low. "May I have this dance?"

"Steve," she said, trying to sound stern, but her smile gave her away.

He pulled back the covers and scooped her up in his arms. Her old, frail body was light as a feather. She would probably float away if he let go. Looping her arm around his neck, she smiled up at him as he began to dance. There wasn't much space to spare in her small room, and he had no idea what he was doing, but he swayed from side to side and twirled and spun in time to the music.

Peggy's hair was like puffs of snowy cloud surrounding her wrinkled face. The long years between them showed clearly in the crows' feet at the corners of her eyes, the veins showing clearly through her paper-thin skin. But her eyes were the same as ever—just as deep, just as dark, just as steady and determined as the last time he'd seen them.

And when _was_ the last time he'd seen them? Just before he'd jumped onto the plane to stop Schmidt, racing to what he'd thought was his death, she had pulled him close and given him an impulsive kiss. For luck, maybe, or just to make sure he'd come back. Either way, it hadn't exactly worked...or had it? He'd survived, and here they were, together again.

The record came to a stop. He leaned in and gently kissed Peggy. Her lips were dry against his, and he could feel the wrinkles in the hand she laid against his cheek. But she was still _Peggy,_ and so he kissed her again.

When he pulled back, Peggy was slightly breathless. "I think I'm a little old for all _that,_ " she said, patting his cheek.

"You're never too old to be loved," Steve said, laying her back down in her bed.

Once he got her comfortable again and resumed his seat by her bedside, she grasped his hand with both of hers. "Steve...don't lose your future to regrets of the past. I've lived a full life. Now you need to live yours."

Steve looked at her hands, at the ring another man had put on her finger and left there when he died. "But I wanted to live it with _you._ "

When he raised his eyes again, Peggy was watching him shrewdly. She seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, because she said softly, "When I married my husband...I never _stopped_ loving you. Love isn't so small a thing that it can be confined to just one person. We love different people at different times, in different ways. So don't let your love for _me_ keep you from finding happiness _now._ "

He couldn't speak past the lump in his throat, so he merely nodded and patted her hand, trying to smile. But that night, when he went home and ran into the pretty nurse who lived across the hall, he decided to stop and chat.


End file.
